


Breathing Space

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: 1.08, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: Why she thought she could clear her head out here she isn't sure, but despite the heat it's nice to be outside where she can at least think without being interrupted by Brian's smug tone, or Will's current mood.





	Breathing Space

It's hot. The kind of oppressive summer New York heat that she hates, the kind that makes the offer she received yesterday more tempting than it was when she lay awake half the night mulling it over. Why she thought she could clear her head out here she isn't sure, but despite the heat it's nice to be outside where she can at least think without being interrupted by Brian's smug tone, or Will's current mood. Moving over to the edge of the terrace she looks out at the hazy sky, at the buildings that surround theirs, and down at the traffic below, constantly moving, always noisy as the city goes about its business.

She hears the door open somewhere behind her, but she has no real interest in finding out who has chosen to disturb her peace so she keeps her eyes firmly on the view ahead of her, hoping it's someone else who wants some quiet and that they'll simply choose a different corner of the terrace for their musings.

“Mac?” Jim's voice, tentative behind her. “Will's looking for you.”

“I don't care.” She turns slightly so she knows he can hear her, but she doesn't look at him. “Tell him you don't know where I am. It won't fucking kill him to call IT himself to fix his computer or whatever the hell he needs me to do.”

“Right.” His voice moves closer. “Everything okay?”

“Do you ever have days where you just wonder what the hell you're doing here?” She turns and sees the look of concern on his face. “I'm not about to leap off the terrace, Jim. ACN, I mean. Not _here_ , in the wider sense.”

“Here, D.C., Atlanta...” He shrugs. “They often feel like one and the same to me.” “Do you like it here?” She turns away again, leaning on the wall.  
“ACN?” He moves to stand beside her.

“New York.” A light breeze takes her by surprise and she closes her eyes, appreciating it even as she acknowledges its brevity.

“Sometimes.” He shrugs again. “I mean, sometimes I'll wander into a shitty looking bar and it'll turn out to actually be pretty cool, or I'll stumble across another really great record store, you know. Mostly it just kind of...overwhelms me, I guess.”

“Me too.” She nods, knowing exactly what he means. “Except for me it's bakeries. Every now and then I'll find somewhere that sells the best pastries, freshly-baked, one of those places that smells amazing...and then I'll never manage to find it again.”

“Do you miss D.C.?” He takes a sip from the bottle of water she hadn't even noticed he was carrying.

“Only in the sense that some of my happiest memories centre on D.C. Some of my shittiest ones though too. I think it's like...” She pauses, wondering what exactly she's trying to say. “I miss London, but I think it's in the way we all miss the place we grew up because with the benefit of hindsight we can look at those places with rose-tinted, nostalgia-coated glasses.”

“God, I don't miss where I grew up,” he says firmly. “Not at all.”

“I've been offered a job there.” She blurts it out, not really meaning to. “With the BBC, in London.”

“Whoa, I didn't know...” He frowns at her. “I didn't know you were looking around.”

“I'm not. I wasn't. I...” He's the first person she's told, and it feels scary to say it aloud. “They came to me with an offer.”

“It's an EP job?” His eyebrow quirks.

“No. It'd be back to field reporting.” Her stomach lurches at the thought of it. “Senior Foreign Correspondent.”

“Wow. Shame they're about a year and a half too late.” His eyes widen in response to her silence. “Wait, you're thinking about it?”

“I'm not sure.” She sighs. “I only talked to them yesterday, I haven't had time to really think about it at all yet.”

“That's why you came up here?” It's a logical assumption, from someone who has no idea what other reason there might be.

“Not really, no, or not just that anyway. I just needed some breathing space.” She sighs again. “I don't know, it's just that between Will hating me and Brian looking so smug because he thinks he has me in his control all over again, I couldn't...I just couldn't stand to be in there another minute longer.”

“Brian just got here, like, three days ago, Mac.” His confusion is clear in his eyes.

“I know, and I've reached peak irritation already. It's quite the kicker.” She rolls her eyes, annoyed with Brian and angry at Will all over again. “You know what else I hate? Will insisting that Brian's the best writer for the job. I mean, he's a decent enough writer but he's nowhere near as good as he thinks he is, and Will knows that too. And what Will _actually_ means by the best writer is the best one to fuck around with me and punish me just a little more.”

“I'm not sure I...” Poor Jim, confused again, so often having to take the brunt of her rantings. “Why would he think bringing in Brian Brenner would-”

“Brian was the one I cheated on Will with.” She stops him, figures she may as well cut to the chase. “That's why.”

“Ah, right...I...I didn't know.” He says nothing more, and she's grateful for that.

“It just seems unfair that I really haven't had all that many relationships in my life, yet somehow I have two of my ex-boyfriends right here torturing me.” She laughs, but it's entirely without humour. “With the added twist of one having hired the other to exact the torture. I guess bringing a different date into the newsroom every night to show me just how much he's moved on stopped being enough for Will and he decided to step it up a level.”

“You and Will, I totally get...” He pauses, she nods at him to go on. “You and Brian? I just...I don't see it.”

“I get that. I can barely make sense of it myself now, it was so long ago. I was young when I met him, I'd just turned twenty-four, and he was...” She searches for the right words. “Well, he was smart and he could be charming, in the beginning...he was just really good at seeming impressive. I thought he was...cool, I suppose. Anyway, we spent way too long going back and forth, on and off. I'd leave, he'd persuade me to come back, then he'd leave, same old story. I wasted five years of my life, the majority of my twenties, on someone I thought I was in love with, and it was only when I met Will and realised how it actually felt to be in love, and with someone who felt the same...that's when I finally saw my relationship with Brian for the toxic mess it was. And now here he is, infiltrating my newsroom, bugging everyone with his stupid little notebook, driving me fucking nuts.”

“Why does Will even want this piece to be written?” It's a question she's asked herself a hundred times in the last few days, even though she knows the answer.

“For reasons that are way too complex for me to even begin to explain, Will craves approval, he _needs_ it, and it's never enough that we think he's doing a good job or even that the ratings would seem to suggest that perhaps the viewers think so too.” She wishes he could relax just a little, that he didn't feel the need for constant approval. “He always needs more, he needs to be...I don't know, adored, I suppose, even though that seems a little strong...”

Jim says nothing, probably wisely, but he certainly doesn't disagree with her assessment. When he wipes a hand across his forehead, she's reminded again of just how hot an afternoon it is, the skin at the back of her neck feeling damp, and her feet feeling thoroughly uncomfortable at having been forced into shoes when they'd much rather be in sandals. It's funny how if she was on a beach, in shorts and sandals, a cool drink in her hand, this would be the perfect temperature, yet up here it's stifling. Of course, if she was on a beach, Will and Brian wouldn't be following her around, each trying to think of more efficient ways to irritate her. Maybe a break, a week somewhere relaxing, might be a better consideration than a move to London and numerous field postings to God only knows where...

“Can you really imagine living like that again?” He looks at her, squinting against the sun as he talks. “I didn't think you'd even consider it, after everything, you know...”

“I wouldn't be embedding, Jim, it wouldn't be like last time.” She read what they sent her over and over last night, it's not like she could have slept anyway. “It's a good offer.”

“Obviously good enough that you didn't tell them you weren't looking for anything else right now.” He takes a gulp from his water bottle and she realises she's thirsty too. Taking the lid off her own bottle, she does the same.

“Which is exactly what I _would_ have said if this had come along a few months ago, but right now I don't know...” She doesn't know anything, other than she's more tempted by the offer than she had thought she was. “I love my job here, Jim, I really do, but so much of the time I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle with Will. I have so many days where I think he's on board with wanting to make a good, honest news show, only for him to flip his shit when the ratings aren't exactly what he wants and insist we cover some bullshit story or other to try to boost them. I just think that maybe this could be what I need, a complete change, away from...here, I guess.”

“I know you don't need me to tell you this, but you're good, Mac.” He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it standing up, unable to combat the heat. “On camera, I mean. Not that I'm saying you should take the offer.”

“So you're saying I shouldn't?” She smiles, knowing that's not what he's saying.

“I'm saying nothing of the sort.” He returns her smile, but then his expression turns serious. “I guess I just...well, you're saying that a few months ago you'd have turned it down, but now you're seriously considering it, so I'm not sure- “

She gets it. He's wondering what changed, and he probably thinks this is a reaction to Will bringing Brian in, an overreaction, perhaps, when in reality Brian's arrival just feels like the final acknowledgement that she's never going to be able to let her guard down. She's tired of feeling constantly frustrated by the fact that every time it seems like things with Will are good, they somehow manage to turn to shit all over again, and she's never quite sure why.

“Do you ever worry that one day you'll be eighty and you'll look back and realise the last time you were happy, the _only_ time you were happy, was fifty years ago?” She doesn't give him chance to answer, her question was mostly rhetorical anyway. “I do. I worry about that way more than a sane person should. I don't want to be that person who looks back and wishes she'd done so many things differently.”

“You have two Peabody Awards, you're basically the best EP in the business, and...ah, I guess you don't mean work stuff, right?” He follows his question with another gulp from his water bottle when she responds with a shrug. “What makes you think going back to London might be the answer?

“Jesus, Jim, I feel like I'm in fucking therapy.” She pulls the hair tie from her wrist and drags her hair into a ponytail, the sticky feeling at the base of her neck becoming too much.

“Hey, don't knock free therapy.” He grins and loosens his already messy tie. “Look, all I know is that we went to Afghanistan because you blew it with Will, and from where I'm standing it kind of looks like you're thinking about going to London because of Will too.”

“You think it makes no sense for me to be standing here complaining about not being happy when I keep running from the one thing that could make me happy?” She frowns, wondering if he's right. “Or, more accurately, the one _person_ who could make me happy.”

“You know, I genuinely have no idea if Will could make you happy...” He hesitates but then goes on, a note of trepidation in his tone. “At the risk of you hurling me over this wall, I have to say that I most of the time I just see him making you miserable, Mac.”

“You're lucky it's so hot, I don't have the energy to even try to throw you over the wall.” She's not offended, she can see how it must look to others, this peculiar relationship she has with Will. The push/pull, love/hate cycle that neither one of them seems to be able to break out of is exhausting and probably not healthy for either of them. “I don't know that I'd say _miserable_ , as such, but yeah, I can see how it might look that way.”

“Does he know? About the offer?” He doesn't look surprised when she shakes her head. “Figured not. He'd be even more grouchy than usual if he did. You know he'll hit the fucking roof, right?”

“If I do decide to go, I _need_ him to hit the roof.” She watches as confusion crosses Jim's face. “I have almost two years left on my contract which I'd need to somehow negotiate my way out of, but if Will does go nuts, he can exercise the delightful clause he added to give himself the option to fire me at the end of every week. Boom, everybody wins.”

“Wait, since you got here, you've started every week thinking it could potentially be your last?” She's so used to it that only the incredulous look on Jim's face reminds her of what a shitty addition it was on Will's part.

“Yeah, but I kind of got to the point where I just forgot it was in there, to be honest.” She shrugs, knowing it's good leverage if she does want out. “It is what it is.”

For a few more minutes they stand in silence, she finds herself wondering, as she often does out here, what conversations are taking place on the various roof terraces across the city, how many other people have stepped out for air only to find there really is none. She's aware of Jim finishing his water beside her and she again does the same thing with her own.

“How the hell can it be getting _hotter_?” He pauses and looks at his watch. “I should head back inside.”

“Me too.” She puts the lid back on her water bottle. “Wouldn't want Will dying of dehydration because he can't find the water cooler without directions from me.”

“God forbid.” Jim quirks an eyebrow, a faint smirk on his face. “You might want to draw him a map before you go.”

“ _If_ I go,” she says. “It's a good offer and I definitely have some thinking to do, but it's by no means a done deal. I love my job here, Jim, I really do, I just...whatever I decide to do, I need to be as sure as I can be that I won't regret it three months down the line, or six months, or whenever, you know?”

“Sure, that makes sense. Look...it's totally your decision, obviously, but for what it's worth...” He stops and looks at her, the smirk gone from his face. “I hope you stay. And not just because it'd be shitty to up and leave me to deal with Will considering the only reason I'm here at all is because you dragged me up here to be your second.”

“By _dragged_ , you mean gave you the best career opportunity of your life so far, right?” Her turn to smirk.

“That's what I said.” He smiles and turns away, starting to walk towards the door. “You coming?” She follows, and for the moment she's actually looking forward to the air conditioning she finds so irritating much of the time. Jim's hand is on the door handle when her phone rings, and she doesn't need to look at it before she answers to know it's Will.

“Yeah?” He asks where she is, where she's been, tells her he's been looking for her, just like Jim said he was, but she doesn't give him chance to say anything more. “I'm on my way back now, Will. Whatever it is can wait two more minutes.”

“You know, you said a few months ago you wouldn't have been interested at all, so if it's only tempting now because it would mean getting away from here, from, uh...from Will, then maybe it's not the right thing.” Jim looks back at her and she wonders again if she should just go and find a beach to lie on for a week, see if that's the escape she needs for now. “Not that I'd know. I mean, fuck, like I said, I only ended up here because you asked me to come, so you need to do whatever you need to do.”

“Yeah, well...for now I need to find out what Will so urgently needs, and then I need get back to work,” she says, forcing a smile and wondering if he's right, if she's even considering the offer at all for all the wrong reasons. “I'll worry about the rest later.”


End file.
